


Quid Pro Quo

by LadyGlinda



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drabble, M/M, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Oblivious John, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sibling Incest, holmescest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-13 17:03:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21182438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGlinda/pseuds/LadyGlinda
Summary: Mycroft needs information from Sherlock. Sherlock demands some attention in return.





	Quid Pro Quo

“You must tell me, Sherlock!”

Sherlock snorted.

Mycroft sighed. “It’s a matter of national importance! Just spit it out!”

“Nope.”

This infuriatingly popped ‘p’… “I know it’s a case for your dear DI Lestrade but it also concerns my interests.”

“Your interests?” Sherlock gave him a look full of mock surprise. “How come? I thought you just occupy a minor position in the British Government?”

Mycroft bit his lip and his eyes darted over to John Watson, who was sitting in his chair with a biscuit in his hand, watching the show with undisguised amusement. “Tell me!” he thundered then, at the end of his tether. Sometimes… just sometimes…

“I don’t think so. Huh-huh.” The detective was most certainly enjoying himself very much.

“Sherlock, perhaps you should just give him the name and what else we found out, you know, if it’s so important?”

Mycroft grinned when Sherlock glowered at his flatmate, blogger and best friend.

“Won’t,” he said then, crossing his arms. “Not without an incentive.”

Mycroft gasped. How could he?! But why was he surprised at all? He should have seen this coming. But with John next to them – quite shocking!

Sherlock grinned smugly at him and then turned to John again. “Leave us alone, John. This will be getting… ugly.”

Ugly?! Mycroft narrowed his eyes but relaxed at once when he saw the tiny hint of a wink in Sherlock's right eye, invisible for the doctor.

“No.” John shook his head. “Won’t leave, who knows to which measures he will turn then.” He gave Mycroft a suspicious glance.

What a changeable little man he was. First he told Sherlock to help him and then he was afraid Mycroft could do what – torture him to get the information? Ridiculous… But of course he thought Sherlock and he were archenemies…

“Just go,” Sherlock ordered. “You don’t have to witness this and by the way we need beans. And biscuits!”

“If you’re sure...” John didn’t look sure at all that this was a good idea. But he didn’t seem to wonder why Sherlock was sending him out. He really admired the ground Sherlock was walking on and wasn’t questioning his motives…

Sherlock gave him a reassuring smile that looked a bit odd in its insincerity, and they watched the little man grabbing his jacking and padding to the door.

Only when it had closed behind him, Mycroft spoke again. “You’re playing a dangerous game, little brother.”

“What – are you really planning to torment the information out of me?” Sherlock smirked.

Mycroft just tilted his head and gave him a raised eyebrow.

“Ah, you mean John. Don’t worry. He is quite useful and very loyal but he’s as oblivious as they get.”

“If you’re sure...” He could hear the front door being opened and closed.

“Don’t fret, frater. If he tries to sneak back to eavesdrop, I’ll hear him. He thinks he’s so discreet but he has the grace of an elephant.”

Mycroft couldn’t help but chuckle but then he pointed at Sherlock. “Out with the information now.”

“Please. You think I sent John away to just tell you this? If you want it, you’ll have to give me something.”

“And what, dear brother, do you have in mind?” He was close to asking about Sherlock's and John’s nosy landlady but he hadn’t heard a single noise from the downstairs flat when he had arrived so in all probability, she was out, too. She wasn’t usually that quiet.

Sherlock gave him a lazy smile and unzipped his trousers with two long fingers. “Take a pillow from the couch. Wouldn’t want to hurt your poor knees.”

“Cocky.”

“Mm-mm. Literally.” Sherlock chuckled and his breathtaking eyes brightened up in a way that did things to Mycroft's heart. “It’s a win-win situation. You suck my cock, I tell you what I found out.” His long fingers rummaged in his trousers and a moment later a deliciously long cock sprung up, already leaking with anticipation.

Of course Mycroft didn’t need any incentives to give his marvellous brother a blowjob. It was one of his favourite things to do and he caught himself licking his lips at the sight. This game was exciting though. And dangerous…

Sherlock deduced his thoughts. “Nobody will come. Well, except for me.”

Mycroft grinned and shook his head. “You’re going to be my doom, little brother.”

“And what a nice one it will be.”

He couldn’t argue with this so he walked over to the couch, took a cushion and positioned himself between his brother’s spread legs, looking up to him to see the expected smug smile. But there was something behind the smugness that made him want to kiss the living daylights out of his lover. This was not the moment for it though. The game was on. He had played along all this time ago when Sherlock had demanded to pretend they were nasty pirates. He gave into playing Operation when the mood struck. He had basically played every game his brother wanted him to play, all his life.

“Get to work, big brother,” Sherlock rumbled. “If you want information, you must give pleasure.”

“Nasty deal,” Mycroft muttered most unconvincingly and winced when Sherlock pinched his ear. Nobody dared do anything like this to him. Well, nobody else was allowed to touch him anyway. He bent forward and took his brother’s long, curved cock in with one deft movement, chuckling around the silky intruder when Sherlock moaned to the ceiling. Oh yes, the game was most definitely on.

*****

He pulled back, knowing they didn’t exactly have all the time in the world as John would be back eventually but not wanting to get over with this within a minute. So after having made his point, he started with lapping at the large, red crown, shiny and tasty with the foreskin eased back. Sherlock mumbled something most indecent and took a deep breath before he started to talk.

Mycroft chuckled from time to time when his words got almost incoherent in his arousal. But while lapping and nibbling at the fraenulum, picking tiny pearls of pre-come out of the little slit with the tip of his tongue and right-out sucking Sherlock's thick, hot member, he listened closely to the story Sherlock was telling him, storing away the information as well as Sherlock's reactions as if he hadn’t done this for him a thousand times before (albeit not in Baker Street until now).

He was enjoying himself tremendously, knowing he was driving Sherlock mad with his lips and tongue and teeth, if he chose to use them. Sherlock's deductions were flawless as ever but his storytelling was a bit lacking; he seemed to be uncharacteristically struggling with words right now and his legs were trembling uncontrollably while his hands were buried in Mycroft's hair.

Mycroft’s own fingers were not idle either. He was fondling and teasing Sherlock's blood-filled balls, poking at his perineum, and if Sherlock hadn’t been sitting, he would have certainly also teased his rosy little hole he loved to lick so much.

The story ended while Sherlock was reaching his climax, and he was stammering the last words in a rather high-pitched voice while salty fluid was being pumped into Mycroft's still relentlessly sucking mouth.

Mycroft licked him clean, content that no drop had been wasted, and got up while resting his hands on Sherlock's probably weak knees. “Thank you, little brother. This was most informative.”

Sherlock, dazed-eyed and shaking, nodded. “My pleasure.”

“I bet,” smirked Mycroft. “Well, I will make sure the man gets arrested now.”

“Lestrade will be angry.”

“Too bad. My clearance is higher than his.”

“And you have the bigger cock.” Mycroft raised his eyebrows at that and Sherlock grinned. “I had to fish him out of the Thames once and he’d lost his trousers, the silly git.”

“Ah, I see. Anyway. I’ll take care of it and I’ll inform your DI.”

“Will you tell me how it went?” Sherlock had tucked himself away in the meantime.

“Ah, I don’t know,” Mycroft played hard to get.

“Come on, I did all the work!”

“Well, if you want to know all the details, you must come over tonight and make me an offer.”

Sherlock shook his head. “Not making an offer. I’ll suck you off and let you fuck me.”

“That sounds like a deal, apart from the ghastly phrasing.” Mycroft picked up his umbrella and slowly walked to the door.

Sherlock got up and joined him, and they shared a long, messy kiss. Mycroft was rock hard in his pants and had been as soon as he had started blowing Sherlock. But he could wait. Anticipation was half the joy; something Sherlock had never understood.

“Bye for now, baby brother,” he mumbled, having Sherlock in a firm, one-armed hug.

Sherlock pinched his arse. “Yes, bye. See you later.”

“For sure.” With this Mycroft left, his phone already in his hand. He had things to do and tonight he would enjoy his brother’s attention for telling him all about it. Life was great.

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow I imagine Mycroft looking at Sherlock like this in the moment when they talk about it being dangerous: 
> 
> https://tenor.com/view/sherlock-mark-gatiss-mycroft-holmes-bitch-please-oh-please-gif-5323085
> 
> :D


End file.
